Jaqen and the Wolf
by Rebecca Butler
Summary: What happens when Jaqen returns for Arya and takes her to Winterfell to see what its become and their adventures afterwards. can there be love between these two?
1. The Beginning

Cries rang in the streets imparting assurance the diversion was in progress. What now remained rested upon the faceless man's skill. Jaqen moved away from the wall without urgency despite the turbulent rush of adrenalin's demand. He lowered his head, the cowl of his cloak falling forward to more fully conceal the masked face beneath its obsidian safeguard. Booted footfalls made no sound as he stealthed through the dimly lit corridors. Torchlight slithered maliciously over his shoulders with insidious intent to expose his purpose. Guards lined his path, each one seemingly more capable than the next, each larger and armed with greater steel the deeper his trek took him toward where the prisoner was held. He walked past them without a single swirl of his robes, his entire will focused upon projection of effect that his presence there was simply customary. No heads turned to acknowledge him, but one older soldier stopped peering into his thoughts, raising a brow in unspoken query at the indistinct; of fleeting shadows."The further Jaqen advanced the more fetid the air became. Chills writhed down his spine at the abhorrent onslaught of death's putrid stench. The agonized wails of villainy's aftermath echoed against hope that refused their reply. Rather than try to avoid enmeshment he allowed the horror to consume him, inhaling deeply of its barbarism and directing his essence toward melding reception. Awareness. Becoming one with his enemy, enjoining his soul to those they brought suffering, his gaze fell upon the single source of separation between himself and his goal. Although he'd never before laid eyes on the man, his familial resemblance was unmistakable. Flames leapt up in memory as he closed his palm over the steel in his grasp. When he was finished here he would seek"Arya Starrk". They had unfinished business ...

She had walked long into the night, escaped by a Jaqens hand. She had done as he told her to and she and her friends had escaped unnoticed under the cover of darkness. She thought badly, for tricking him like she had, but she was also one not for living in a cage for to long either! Working for Lanniester grated on her nerves, for she was no ones servant!They had stopped to rest only once, and though her friends wished to stop at the nearby village, she stayed only long enough to bathe, get supplies and then continued on her way alone. Having no idea where she was going, but knowing she must reach Winterfell and soon, she quickened her pace as she felt the coming chill upon the air. She reached a hand into the pouch at her waist and gently fingered the old coin she kept there. She made sure she kept it close, for it was her one tie to the Man who had saved her life, more then the three times she was owed. She would have gone with him, when he asked her to but she felt obligated to go and try to find her family. A quest that was proving fruitless. Rumors ran rampant in the village with which she had stopped and even Gendry had tried to talk her out of going back to her Home, but to stay with them instead. She was beginning to wonder if that had been the smart idea, instead of tracking through the wilderness on her own, with no clear or set direction! She shivered slightly and again cursed herself for a fool! Night was rapidly falling and she sought out shelter next to a small river, building a small fire to keep warm. Huddling into the jacket she had bought at the town, she watched as the flames danced and waved in front of her eyes. She hoped morning came fast, and with it, the sun

Moonlight swathed the assassin in unwelcome illumination. He glared toward the heavens with appellate disdain, his fingertips caressing the blades at his belt as though ready to lend the silvered orb his assistance into a chasm of invisibility. His steps were trained silence, his movements lithe grace. Hovering boughs dared not touch the caped shoulders that passed beneath their twisted canopies for fear of tenacious reprisal. His task had been well completed. None had advanced to present a barrier. The Lion had passed from this life to the next without having seen the faceless who'd sent him there. He'd left not a trace of identification beyond that of a shadow who'd displaced the illusion of King's Landing's impenetrability. Sleep beckoned its precious reward, but time gave him no offer of respite. His senses acute, he could tell she was near. Anxiety cloaked the frigid night air, hastened breaths whispered loudly upon flaming coals. A smile lit the eyes that wore their secret behind years of killing as they came to rest on the girl's tiny frame.

Headed North, is the girl?" His voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

starting at the voice, so near to her, did she leap up on instinct, raising the branch that came into contact with her hand first! She might go down, depending on who had found her huddled, near freezing in the night, but she would go down fighting! Her sword, Needle, left behind on some Lannisters belt sickened her, but it could not be helped, so a branch was all she had to wield at the stranger in the night! Adrenaline flooded her, her eyes searching him out in the murky darkness that was her shelter from the cold, little good it did her. Her heart raced, ready to attack if need be, for she was a Stark and was tired of running! Licking her lips, tasting the cold and the night air upon them, did her eyes flit to the darkest shadows, resting upon a figure of a Man, standing just inside her fires light. Upon closer scrutiny, she found she knew this man, and relief as well as fear both flashed through her. She lowered her branch but did not drop it entirely.

"Jaqen...? What are you doing here?" She gazed up into the face of her 'friend', wondering how on earth he found her, before she straightened her back and got a stubborn look across her face. "And yes, I am...what business is it of yours where I go?" she shivers in the cold but tries not to show it, her hands pale white from holding the branch to tightly. Frost alights the ground in a delicate dance of sharp contrast from white to green, the fire gives little warmth. why, oh why did she not listen to Gendry? Her breath, billows out like small puffs of smoke before her, as she stares Him down, wondering what his intent was. If he was there to help, she would welcome it, but if he was there to try to hurt her, she would make sure he felt pain before her end came and let him see it in her eyes.

Jaqen shook his head, amused by the fear she was trying to hide behind feigned bravado. A sharp gale coursed its sudden appearance through the trees, the bare overhead branches creaking in protest while its frigid fingers played their way over the two figures standing in dogged disposition. "Does a girl think to take a man down with that 'twig'?" He reached out and grabbed the weapon away from her, releasing it back to the ground at her feet. Then unsheathing the blades he had at his waist, he gave them a twirl, his smile relentless. "Why waste breath with questions of useless consequence? A man is here. The reason will be given ... or will not be ... without need of your giving it query."

Staring him down, her body shaking in cold made even worse by the wind that ripped through the trees and surrounded them! She tried not to show it, weakness, she hated the word! her eyes flit to the branch in her hands and then back at Jaqen, the blades resting in his belt. "If you have come to cause injury then yes, if I have to!" before the words were even out of her mouth, he had taken the branch from her and cast it to the ground near her feet. Her eyes followed it, as she watched him remove the twin blades at his waist with a smile. What was hidden in that smile of his? what promises where concealed from her there? Pain? he twirled the blades with an expert hand, Pain was expected but not feared. No, she would not fear this Man, no matter how much he tired to intimidate her! She knew that had he wanted her dead, she would have been so, months ago! Still, the look in his eyes gave her pause, for she saw Death within them. her own or anthers, she was not yet sure. Back straight, eyes burning in anger, boring into his own did she challenge him. "I will ask questions when I want to, about things that concern me. It is not I, sneaking like a thief in the night, but you." her words were contradiction, for in fact she had been sneaking. hoping to go unseen till she reached a safe haven, but that was neither here nor there now. "I grow bored of this, if it is your wish to strike me down with those blades in your hands, then by all means do it! otherwise, I am waiting for morning when I can start again on my way." She shivers a bit and turns her back on him, going to once more, sit at the fire, holding her hands out to it as she huddles almost atop it, such is the cold of the night!

"Bored?" He laughed as he circled her with deliberate intent, slowly coming to a halt and lowering to sit cross-legged before the fire. He raked a hand through his silver streaked scarlet mane, a softly inhaled breath filling his lungs with glacial air. The flames danced over the wood, light and shadow playing their ancient venture across his exhaustion. What was he to do with this little wolf? She had severe reason to wish for the kill. Her father had met his untimely end at the hand of a boy whose depravity was becoming widely renowned, his illegitimacy fostered by increasing rumour that he was a Lannister, not a Baratheon. Incest was the love that royals of Westeros seemed to prefer; self-righteous murder their game of thrones. None were in possession of comprehension as to who the true players actually were. Power was seated deeply in Braavos. Control of the game lay beyond the reach of these Seven Kingdoms and their petty pawns. "A man has no care to strike down a girl. Sit." He patted the ground at his side. "Tell a man of a girl's plans. On way to where?"

her eyes narrowed at his words, teasing in his voice as it made its way to her awaiting ears. She had reason to fear, friends and strangers alike, for theirs was a game not of her understanding and she had played the fool far to long. No more a young girl was she for she had seen to much. The Death of her Dance Master, Her Fathers Death still heavy upon her mind, even the Death of the Brother of the Knights Watch who was securing her safety had been shot down in cold blood before her eyes. To much death, makes one wary and age before their time, such was her fate. She watched him, like he was some sort of snake, wanting to believe the words he said to her and yet not fully letting herself for fear of betrayal yet again. Time had not been good to her, not to anyone she knew, but it had taught her many lessons, the first of which was to trust no one but herself! She did as he bid though, taking a seat beside him, looking up at him, wondering why he was really here. Her eyes sought his, as if trying to seek out the things he had hidden in their depths but his sky blue eyes gave away nothing. she looked back to the fire and tossed a small branch upon it, sending tiny sparks of firelight into the sky. She watched them, float and fling upon the night air around them before she answered. "On to Winterfelll...to home." She sighs softly and looks back at the fire, in thought. "Or so I thought I was, now, I am not so sure. Rumors fly, Winterfell is taken, I don't know where my mother and brothers are...nor do I know in what direction I am going." She frowns slightly as she talks, playing with a stick in her hands and wondering why she was telling him anything!

He raised his eyes to the moon just as a cloud took its precedence in obscurity. What was he doing here? Now the same question crossed his own mind. He owed the girl nothing and the Starks even less. His debt was to someone and something so far from Westeros as to seem unholy. Yet, here he sat between heaven and the seven hells wearing a face that was not his, more blood on his hands than could be discerned by the keenest inspection, in the company of a child with rivers of hatred flowing like molten lava throughout her veins. She was too young for such pain. It was an agony which he, himself, knew too well ... whether or not he chose to admit it, was the true reason for his embracing empathy. "A girl will go with a man to Braavos, there to learn the fine art of assassination. She will then be able to take her revenge and none be the wiser as to her identity."

she flicked her eyes to his again, her own furrowing in the anger that seemed to flare up out of nowhere within her. It happened that way all the time now, where it used to be a soft glowing coal inside her, it became a raging inferno at a moments notice and was gone just as swiftly a moment later. "I will go nowhere but HOME!" her voice strong as she glared at the man who would appear out of nowhere and tell her her direction!"My family needs me! I must see if the rumors are true! I can not just abandon them, no matter how much I may want to!" she stood and took a few steps away, anger simmering to a low boil within her veins, followed by fear and loss, followed swiftly by resolve and anger again as she turned to face him. "Why are you here? You have paid your debt to the Red God, why come back?" she faced him down with both rage and confusion in her eyes. what could he possibly want? She thought him gone the day they parted ways, yet here he was, offering her the one thing she wanted, revenge! Upon any and all who have or would ever hurt her! but duty and loyalty to ones family came first and she was set on her path to Winterfell, though it might lead to her undoing. As she waited for his reply, a thought came to her. He had traveled many leagues, had seen many places, perhaps he could take her home! show her the way, but how to convince him that she needed to follow this path first, before she gave into any others? He owed her nothing, his debt paid, how could she do this? Looking back into the flames, lost in thought, till an idea began to form. smiling faintly to herself, she hid it as she turned back to Jaqen and once again met his eyes. "Take me to Winterfell, See me home safe for at least a glimpse, and on my honor, this girl will go with you, where ever you have a mind to take her." her words soft, but true as she watched him.

He gave a sudden, harsh laugh, much louder than he'd intended. "It's the middle of winter, girl," he reminded her. "A man has walked through snowdrifts as high as his waist. Bilzzard storms have ravaged his travel and brought him to standstill more times than not. There were days when he thought he would lose all his fingers despite his best efforts to keep them from freezing. Still the numbing pain took its toll on his mind and visions exploded in violent bursts of dangerous perplexity. A girl is of the North and knows these things without possession of need to be told." A glowering glance completed his protest. Turning his back, he stepped away ... not from her but from reason's verity. He did not wish her exposed to what they might find awaiting them once they made their arrival. Word had reached him long before now that Theon Greyjoy had taken control of the keep, proclaiming himself the King of Winterfell. Arya's youngest brothers had been captured and slain, their corpses burned and hung from the battlements as gruesome of the kraken's achievement. Bringing the girl there would only place her in harm's way as well. And even were he to keep her well hidden, what she'd see and hear would prove equally painful. Her aim was to become her family's savior, but it was too late for even the slightest of such possibilities. He turned back around but stayed where he stood, shaking his head with adamant refusal. "You will come with me to Braavos." His voice was firm and his gaze steadfast.

"If you were so worried for your extremities, why come after me?" she demanded hotly, her own gaze a penetrating look that demanded answers, saying she would no back down. "Why travel this far North if you have business far and away as you so readily stated?" hands crossed across her chest, she glared at him, curious as to why he had come, seeing something deep within his own eyes that he thought he had hidden well. "I will do no such thing!" Her hands ball into fists as her eyes snapped fire! "I am set on my path to Winterfell, I have things there that I must at least see to". She turns to look back at him, eyes once again hard. "If a Man wants to see this girl safe, he will take her there..." she raised her chin, for the way they looked at each other she could tell she had hit a soft spot in him, and it softened her eyes a bit but not her resolve. "This girl goes with...or without you..."

A deep sigh escaped him. "A girl does not know what she is asking for." He bristled as he locked his eyes with hers, a silver of moonlight catching the silver streaks in his hair giving the tendrils an eerie brilliance. "Does she think she will find something pleasant she left behind? Some doll or some memory that will bring her comfort?" Advancing into her space, he leaned close maintaining his gaze and lowering his voice to a malefic growl. "How far does she think she will get in these woods alone? How many fingers and toes will she lose once she travels a bit farther North into snow?" His goal was to get her as far from the squalor of Westeros as possible and all she seemed to want was to venture more deeply into its clutches. Starks. He shook his head./

hearing his words, her anger again flooded her causing her cheeks to turn pink. She knew he spoke the truth, for indeed it was cold, freezing even. she had only a coat to keep her warm and not a very good one at that. It had holes and patches in places that did not good for use. even now, she shivered violently as she stared up at him. "How far do I think I will get..." she kept her voice low as well, velvet in its sound as he lowered into her space, nor did she backtrack with him so close. Brave though she was, and stubborn, he best learn that quick! "...all the way!"She leans her face towards his in answer, as if daring him to challenge her. she was going! At least to see how her home fared, hear from her Maesters mouth how things were,she had to. There was no question in her mind about this path. "How many fingers and toes am I willing to sacrifice to get there?" She threw his question back at him with a growl of her own. "All of them...Winterfell is my home, worth more to me then life." She straightens her back, gazing into his cerulean eyes, her own set in stubbornness. "Take me there, or don't...either way, I am going." She turns her back upon him and picks up her coat, slipping it on and putting out the tiny flame she had for a fire. "I am already to late in starting as it is.." She casts another look his way before setting her heels towards the deeper forest. staying off the roads as she made her way Northward. It wouldn't take long, she was nearly there and this was a NEED she had to do! she could not explain it to him or herself any other way.

By the Red God and every damn god this world ever knew, the girl was as stubborn as the winter winds! He stood for a very long time without moving, his arms akimbo and his thoughts wildly roiling. Of course he could let her go on for a day, maybe two, maybe three. She would be easy to track and to find again. A hard lesson would be learned in the results of being bullheaded. There really were places where the snow drifts were higher than she was tall. And while the temperatures were nothing compared to what they were at The Wall where her bastard brother served his calling, they were damn cold enough to see her to illness if not to death. She had nothing to gain and so much to lose, regardless of her determination. "Foolish!" he muttered under his breath. The Ironborns would be guarding the roads on approach and all they need see were the grey orbs of Stark. Winterfell's new 'false' king would have her in his hold before she could understand what had happened. She'd left him little choice but to follow in the wake of her heedless folly. "A girl is going to get us both killed."

"A girl was not expecting a Man to follow her..." was her short reply. She huddled into her coat, wrapping her arms around her as she walked deeper into the woods. She knew Winter was coming, had felt its icy tendrils waft and grab at her in the nights that had come and gone. So many nights, cold and alone. she was beginning to wonder if she should had just stayed in the town with the others. Icy breath breathed down her spine and she shivered, but she knew her path was already set. To at least see her home was her quest, for her father had instilled the same love of home into her that he, himself, had felt. She couldn't explain it, not to herself, not to Jaqen, not to anyone. She simply knew it was a part of her.

Night gave way to dawn, and she had to finally stop, collapsing in a heap near the brambles. She had stayed off the roads, knowing everyone from here to Kings Landing would be looking for her. She was beyond cold but gave no complaint, not wanting the Man to know he had been right. her fingers had begun to ache and her throat hurt with every breath, of icy spikes that serrated it as she breathed. Tucking her fingers into her arms, she huddled deeper inside her coat and leaned against a tree in an attempt to sleep, only for a few minuets. They were nearly there, or so she hoped.

"Why does a girl copy a man's speech? He does not find it amusing nor cute. And a girl expected a man's pursuit or she would not have taken her leave with such defiance." He glanced dismissively at Arya, a ragged edge tainting his tone. "Consider it a tender mercy and do not try it again or a girl will find herself on her own in the hands of an unknown possessor who will show her none."They followed paths that Jaqen often could not make out. Their tracks wove through impenetrable undergrowth that turned into ice bound vines of sheer treachery. There was no sound save that of their own breaths upon the chill air. He longed to be going almost anywhere but Winterfell. The closer they came to the occupied keep, the closer to danger he placed her. Yes, HE placed her, for if he had any sense at all in his head he would swoop her up in his arms and head east to the sea.

"Because it pleases me to do so." She throws a faint smile in Jaqens direction as she lays huddled near the tree. "Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery...is it not?" She leans her head back and closed her eyes. "Besides, I like the way you talk...it's nice..." She says softly, not aware at how truthful she was being as she faded into sleep. Many hours passed and she sat bolt upright in fear! Horses! close and coming closer! She shot out of her postion of sleep, ignoring the aches in her cold body and went to nudge Jaqen, not knowing if he to had fallen asleep. Hiding in the brambles, they could see and hear but not be seen. She held her breath when the horses came closer, and watched as they passed by. She did not relax even when they passed them by but stood slowly and met Jaqens eyes with her own. "We must be close...what was a Greyjoy flag doing this far North?" her voice soft, barely whispered./

He tensed, every sinew preparing to strike as he closed his hands over his blades and attuned his senses to the approaching intrusion. Dark shapes moved amidst the shadows, virtually invisible in the enshrouding ebon but announcing themselves by their brazen dispatch. He kept his sight trained upon the possibility of their being discovered, never allowing his gaze a moment's wavering as he watched the soldiers ride by in blessed ignorance. Their tunics emblazoned with golden krakens announced what Jaqen had known all along. The Ironborn indeed had laid cliam to Winterfell. He grunted as he came to his feet, hesitant to answer the girl's question. It seemed the time of her innocence had reached its finality. "Did a man not attempt to sway a girl from this Northern course upon which she was so determined to tread? Greyjoy holds her home now. She no longer belongs there."

she watched him, tensed as he was, her eyes flitting back to the path and back to him in rapid succession. Her whole body stiffens at his words, her heart literally stopping at the pain that fills her. Her jaw ticks slightly as she fights the pain as well as the anger that instantly floods her. she refused to believe it! None but a Stark could hold Winterfell! anyone else would be blasphemy! "No!" her words soft, yet strong as she stood and started to walk the path in the woods that led her to her home. Seeing the horses gave her pause, nearly made her want to turn back but not now! Now she was filled with rage beyond measure as she glanced up above the trees. The towers of her home beckoned her closer and closer as they teased her in the distance. "No one holds Winterfell but the Starks! NO ONE!" her last words shouts as instead of walking she began to run! paying no heed to his vehement demands for her to stop or to return to his side for she no longer heard him! She ran with a purpose, her feet keeping to the path she knew well! anger flooded her till it was all she saw, red!She reached the end of the forest and nearly ran out to see for herself the estate of her home when someone slammed into her with such a force it made her scream, which she abruptly cut off for fear of the nearby guardsman hearing when she saw it was but the Man who had grabbed her! how he had moved so fast, and unheard by her, she did not know, but he had stopped her from giving herself away and held her fast, refusing to let her go, no matter how hard she pounded against him. "NO! Jaqen...let me go! No!" her voice low but her pleas filled with pain and longing as she beat feebly against him. "It is my home...my home!" seeing the banner of the Kraken now flying above her fathers gates broke her and she burst into tears of intense pain and rage as she both clung to Jaqen and tried to fight him off. "No...please." her eyes burned as blown tea lights in the darkness of the night, her fingers became claws as she tore at his armor in her attempt to free herself from his grasp but her fighting began to wane the harder he held her till she finally collapsed upon his chest and wept, wept tears for all who had lived here, died here and for the blaspheme king that now sat in Winterfells hold!


	2. The Ugly Truth

He immediately released his hold on her small, trembling frame. She had gotten herself into this and he was determined that she would reap the result of her headstrong insistence. He could coddle her, cradle her in his arms and offer her sympathy, but what good would it serve beyond reinforcing the behavior she needed to learn to turn away from? Flashes of unwelcome memories found their way to the forefront of his own recall .../

He laid his hand flat upon the door, feeling its grain beneath his fingertips. The wood was cold. The room was gloomy and the only sound was the shifting of the sea beyond the open window. His father lay in the great bed against the far wall, his grey-haired head resting on pillows, his arms limp across the thin coverlet. There were deep lines in his face as if his skin had folded in upon itself beneath the weight of agonized sorrow and heavy shadows lurked below his eyes. His visage had gathered at least a decade seen he'd received mortality's wound. "He's sleeping" his mother whispered the lie at his ear. "But he isn't breathing," the boy protested tearfully...

No one had held him. Not then and not since. There would be no holding Arya from what she now had to face. The child would have to become a woman long before it was her time to do so. "A girl made her choice and now she must live with it."

looking at the ground, ashamed beyond count at her outburst as he did try to warn her, she refused to look at him until she had her emotions under control. her trembling frame ceased its shaking, her hands balled and unballed into fists repeatedly as she fought to control the sobs that wanted to wrack her body. Instead she let anger, hate fill her and it calmed her. When she lifted her eyes to his at last, there was nothing in them. No tears, no emotion, it was if she had cut herself off from everything as she stood before him, back straight, fists clentched...her eyes were even empty of the fire that burned within them when she was angry. She was truly another person at this point. she swallowed the last of her sadness and let her soul sink deeper into the hate that twisted and twirled in her heart and set her veins on fire! Taking a deep breath, did she cast her eyes back to the Banners that flew over her house and for a moment, the spark was back in her eyes before she crushed it under the blackness of the rage she felt at that moment! Turning her gaze back to the Man, she nodded slightly. "Take me to Braavos...there is nothing here for me now..." Her voice was steel, no warmth did she echo, not anymore."

The men appeared out of the fog like hulkjing ghosts, dark shapes that emerged from a recessed path. Five in number, they closed in fast and without a sound beyond the slide of steel being unsheathed. Jaqen stepped back swiftly. The hiss of his sword a deadly warning. The first blow came from behind him somehow. He flet rather than saw it coming. Caught by surprise, he was not swift enough. It caught his left shoulder a glancing blow, numbing his arm to the fingertips. With a grunt of pain he ducked and and side-stepped. For a moment it appeared that none wanted to test his skill, then they rushed the two of them, cursing, yelling, swiping with their weapons.

The men appearing like ghosts out of the mist caught her up short. She felt her body stiffen in reaction to being caught but was secretly glad of it. she would no longer have to hide! Her attention was brought to the man behind Jaqen, the sound of him drawing his blade caught her attention right away! She stood behind him, but peeked out from his side, glaring at the men that surrounded them. She felt anger turn to pure black rage and when the one moved to attack Jaqen, she pulled one of his own daggers from her companions waist and shoved it, hilt deep into the attacking mans gut! blood spurted as she pulled back, spraying her hands as she stared the dying man down, he looking confused before he dropped to the ground! It happened so fast, she was not aware of her actions until the man was already dead and the others had moved to attack them! the shouts, yelling confused her at first until she saw another come towards her and she dropped into a stance Syrio taught her but she knew she was no match for the man and was soon unarmed and grabbed about the waist and hoisted onto a shoulder of a man who beat a hasty retreat from the fighting! Carried like a sack of potaoes, she did the only things she could do in this instance. she leaned down and bit him, HARD on his ear and began to pull! That stopped his flight, sure enough and nearly dropped her as he kneeled down and delivered her face a sharp blow which rendered senseless for a moment. Long enough for him to switch shoulders and continue upon his way. Addled, she had no idea where Jaqen was nor what had happened to him. she focused on the here and now, first to escape!

He slashed the first man to reach him, sending him reeling back, yelping, as he clutched the cut across his chest. The next avoided Jaqen's savage thrust with a quick twist, but the third caught his back-handed slice with the hilt of his blade. The sword bit deep and was held. The attacker tried to wrench it free, trided to jerk the blade from Jaqen's hand. He held on with dogged strength, though every movement sent pain lancing through his shoulder that now hung close to useless from the earlier blow. The sound of running footsteps impinged on his consciousness. Distracted, he turned to see Arya being carried off toward the keep's gates. His attackers closed in. Weapons raised they rushed him. And then there was only pervading darkness.

She was set roughly down in a room she knew well, the main hall and smacked again by the same man as he walked off, leaving her with a man to guard him. He had made a mistake in not binding her hands for which she was thankful. Her eyes flitted about as she heard fast approaching footsteps, looking for an exit but seeing none, turned her eyes back to the door as none other then Theon Geryjoy entered the room! Anger flooded her yet again and she resisted the urge to rush him! She knew such an action would be cause for her immediate imprisonment and she had no wish to be caged, not yet.

When his eyes locked with hers, she was again favored by the Gods as it did not seem to her that he recognized her! She hoped it stayed that way, but with her luck and her temper she knew it wouldn't last long. He questioned his guards about her, where they found her, but he seemed to think she was a boy, which was just fine with her! she could be Ary again for him, till she escaped. The guards told their tale, of a boy traveling with a man who fought like a demon even when wounded to protect him, alone on their lands. through it all, Arya stayed silent, staring with hate and malice at the Usurper to her fathers house! Theon had no time for 'younglings' and ordered her sent to the cooks and put to work cutting wood or something of that nature, but always in leg irons. She knew the cookery well and there was always ways to get out of the irons. she would bide her time and wait for her moment, all the while keeping an eye out for Jaqen for she wouldn't leave without him. Pushed and beaten with a stick, she was shoved and herded into the cookery, and the irons placed upon her legs. Ordered to go gather wood near the barn for the cook and to be quick about it, she slipped out the door under the ever watchful eye of her new 'friend', her constant guard would be hard to slip but she would find a way.

Consciousness crawled its way back to Jaqen upon a cacophony of gravid confusion. Shadows moved in and out of his returning perception coaxing him back from the onyx oblivion. A sharp pain white-hot, excrutiating, pierced through the last vestige of lingering ebon lifting its veil to reveal surroundings equal in hostility as those he had left at combat's collapse. He lay on his back steel at his throat. A contingency of plated guards dispatched in measured caliber stood with eyes trained upon him. Chill breezes caressed the scattered black banners that hung from the rafters in bold display of House Greyjoy's sigil.

"Who in Seven Hells might you be?"

A voice that seemed strained in exuded authority broke through Jaqen's focus. He altered his attention in its direction to see a small framed young man approaching him where he lay. His tension wrought features bore the remnants of a sleepless night as well as the etching of concealed fear. While the lad had no notion of his captive's identity, there could be no mistaking that of his own.

"King Theon, himself," Jaqen smiled calmly. "A man is honoured." Words were but words, yet their lack of candor evidenced his truth in silent acerbity. "It is hardly hospitable to question a man with a sword at his throat. A King would be better served by exhibiting grace, his answer obtained in like response."

The two went head to head for almost an hour, neither laying claim to the answers they sought. Jaqen was desperate to find out what had become of Arya, paying no need to the sanguine rivers that ran down his arm from the untended wound. Theon was adamant to discover who the man was and why he had brought the Stark girl to Winterfell. Their conversation came to abrupt standstill when the kraken at last gave up his quest and had the stranger taken away.


	3. The Escape

It had been a long day for Arya, but no different then had she been a part of the Brothers camp still. Fetch the wood, fetch the water, peel the potatoes, never ending list of chores for her to do, all the while trying to keep an ear and eye open for any signs of Jaqen, and attempt a moment to herself out of the watchful eye of her guard to fidget with her leg irons. She got such a moment when the guard was called away to attend the king and when the cook was occupied, she took off silently towards the Smiths, laying claim to a tool, she began to beat and pry at the leg irons till one fell off followed swiftly by the other! Now free, she made it look as she still walked with them on, for they had been hidden by her pants, best to keep up the concealment for a bit longer as she made her way back to the cookery.

She was stopped by three guards who surrounded her suddenly, like wraiths from the mist that seemed to now forever surround these parts.

"So? Not a boy after all are we little One? The Lord wants a word with you!" Said one guard as he reached for her!

Fear flooded her but she did not fight him as he roughly grabbed her and lead her back to the Main Hall and threw her in front of none other then Theon Greyjoy

"Little Arya! Imagine my surprise that the little wolf would return to her Den!" His voice grated on her ears, high pitched and full of himself as he paraded in front of her, enticing her to anger. She must remember control...Jaqen had taught her that lesson well. Control or die..and she choose life. "Who was the Man you came with? Hum? He wears Lannister red? Is he one of them? Why are you with one of them?"

throughout all of his questions, she remained mute and simply shot daggers at him. her eyes on fire once again as she watched the pretender pace in front of her. But his words gave her hope, Jaqen was still alive or he would not be questioning her so furiously! His temper grew as she, too, would not answer his questions and finally grew tired of this game to which he was clearly not winning! "I tire of this! If she will not answer, throw her in the dungeons till she loosens her tongue! We have need of this one alive!" His smirk filled her with dread "...but not the other, let him rot deep in the darkness I have thrown him in! We deal with him later!" Turning upon his heels, the guards grabbed and dragged Arya off but this time she fought them! Clawing and scratching, and trying to bite as they dragged her off. Once down below, she turned complacent but it was only farce as she walked behind the first guard, with the second behind her. As she past a cell to the left of her, her eyes flashed to it and happened to catch a swift glimpse inside of it! Her heart went still, her body turned cold and hot at the same time, both happiness and fear flooded her for Jaqen was still alive as her eyes met his! She rushed to his cell door and grabbed the bars before the guards came behind her and peeled her fingers from the bars.

"JAQEN! Your alive...!" She gripped for as long as she could, her strength fading, as they pulled her away. She growled at the gaurds and fought them every step of the way before they finally threw her in a cell, not four doors away from his own. At least she knew he was alive, and knew this place like the back of her hand. She would escape, they would ALL be sorry!

Jaqen's head nodded. It was becoming too difficult to stay awake. He stirred once, looking around with half-open eyes, his mind floating down to contemplate his predicament. A thread of moonlight reached in through the small barred window beyond his reach. He moistened his lips. They had dried and cracked. Nagged by the thought of what Theon may do ... or may already have done ... to the girl whose insistence to return to her home had pierced his will to take her elsewhere. He chastised himself for allowing her challenge to sway his acumen.

Approaching footfalls drew his attention beyond the barred confines, but it was his name that caused him to cringe. Thankful to the gods that Arya yet breathed, he tensed when she cried out announcement of who he was.

she sat against the stone wall, cold at her back she paid it no heed. three times food had been brought to her, three times she had denied it, not touched it! she was hungry, thirsty but would not touch the food nor drink the water, surely they were laced with poison, even though Theon had said that he needed her alive. How many hours had it been? how many days? one? two? more? She didn't know.

They had stopped hassling her after that first hour, when she would not move to the bars so they could touch her, nor did she bite back at their degrading comments, sitting facing the wall and ignoring them completely and instead turned their focus on Jaqen instead, which deeply angered her. When one Guard came to close to her cell as she was standing near the door, trying to get a glimpse of her friend, she noticed the dagger that he had at his waist and with a stealthy hand, relived him of it and he was none the wiser. She did not do well in a cage, and knew Jaqen was more hurt then he let on. They had to get out of here and now! She settled back in the straw, propped up against the wall, pretending to sleep. she didn't have long to wait.

The Lord did say we need this one alive, but I don't think he'd mind if we took liberties with her first. Maybe that will loosen her tongue." A deep voice said, as she heard the door to her cell click open after a jangling of many keys. Her breathing came slower for her as she kept her eyes closed. she held absolutely still and refused to even shake as she heard footsteps coming closer to where she lay. "So small, I don't like them small, but it has been months since I even seen a woman.." She 'felt' him lean closer rather then saw him, smelled his acid breath as it wafted across her skin, oil, leather and dirt graced his skin as he came closer. She laid perfectly still, for she would only get one chance and she MUST strike true. gripping the small dagger tightly at her side, hidden in the straw upon which she lay, she listened as he began to disrobe his armor, piece by piece. She slit her eyes and tensed herself as he removed his chest plate and in a quick thrusting motion, took the guard completely by surprise as she drove the dagger into his chest and through his heart

"For my family..." she whispered through gritted teeth as she shoved deeper into him, letting him feel the extent of her blade before yanking it out* and what will happen to your pretend king! *standing, she quickly searched him for the keys, before covering him up to hide him as best she could, slamming the cell door behind her. She walked with purpose to Jaqens cell and opened the door quick as she could. going to his side, she held up the keys so he could see, as she began to unlock them. "You alright?" She whispered low to him as she met his eyes "we are leaving...now...can you walk?"

Jaqen looked to where Arya stood holding the keys out, a devious smile proclaiming her triumph. Death's distinction clung to her presence. The unmistakable pungency had pervaded his nostrils with immediate petition the moment she'd appeared at the iron portal. The look in her eyes was haunted and frenzied despite what appeared to be outward calm. Without having to ask he knew she had killed to achieve this chance at their freedom. As to whether it had been her first time to take a life he had no way of knowing, nor did he care - not now anyway, but strangely he found his emotions were mixed, anger and appreciation flowing together in convolution. To risk her own life for his was an admirable undertaking, dangerous beyond her most wild imaginings. The Ironborn stood staunchly upon belief in The Drowned God whose blessing came only in the form of resurrection. Death was the ultimate reward of their devotion - What is dead may never die - the words by which they served the sea. These were no ordinary soldiers, but men who fought without dread for to die meant to be brought back in a form far more fearsome. So, yes, he was impressed at Arya's brevity, but enraged she had placed herself in the embrace of such peril.

"A man is alright," he firmly assured her. "Walking is simple, but fighting somewhat less so. As to taking leave now ..." His voice trailed off as he turned away from her. "A man's name has been spoken ..." He brought his right hand to his face, the change taking place instantaneously. When he turned back around emerald eyes peered at Arya from beneath a cascade of long auburn locks. Thin lips, high cheek bones, an angled nose. Everything about him was different and unrecognizable. "Now we are leaving." He grabbed her hand and dashed out the door.

she could tell he was mad at her, for the look in his eyes made her want to cringe, would have sent the older, more vunerable Arya cringing back a few steps as if had struck her, but not now. Now, her eyes met his his with a look that was both unreadable and unfathomable. She had killed, and though it had been her first, it had been her first that she had MEANT to do so! The boy from the stables having been an accident! She smirked slightly as he talked, barely listening to his words as instead her ears strained for any sounds of guards approaching, the darkness kept most at bay and only the truly brave...or the truly depraved ventured where only 'ghosts' walked. Finding his chains was easy, since she had spent years in this very fort, knew it from inside out, from chamberpot to chains upon the wall of the darkest cell She had felt badly about giving his name away, and frowned at his words, another lesson learned. The sparse light from the moon that trickled through his bars gave her the light she needed to see, and when she looked up at him again, it was not the face she knew looking back at her, but another. Uttering but a small gasp before she caught herself, for she knew the man beside her, no matter what face he wore, she took his hand as he grabbed her and followed swiftly behind him.

She pulled him to a stop, balking just before they reached the top of the stairs and nodded in the general direction they were going. "Guards wait there, or did, when my Father was Lord here." she whispered softly to him. "None like the darkness below and instead guard the stairs." there was no fear in her voice, but a gentle calm that flowed from her very being and out of her mouth. She was not afraid, not anymore, and knew from her lessons with Syrio, that that was the first step to defying her God, Death. "Not today.." she whispers more for her benefit and she nudges Jaqen gently towards the right side of the wall. "Door there, hidden, would lead to the main hall if you took the right path. My brothers and I used to play in the compartments. We either go that way and hope to avoid, or go up the stairs and fight." She unsheathed the dagger she had stolen and then killed her guard with, the steel glinting in the faint light of the moon, much like her eyes burned with the inner fire of her rage that she kept firmly ahold of. "A Man and a Girl might escape unseen, if we try the hidden way..."

He realized she knew this keep as none other could for it was her home ... or had been at one time. Nothing here belonged to her anymore. Something more which they shared in the growing list of commonalities. His home was now in the hands of ...

He grimaced as she nudged him against the wall, his wounded shoulder taking the brunt as it grazed the rough stones. He reached out to steady himself, closing a hand tightly over her shoulder and meeting her gaze with clear understanding. Their best option was secrecy for it wouldn't be long before the guard's corpse was discovered and their flight common knowledge. Greyjoy would send his men out in droves, risk all that he'd gained to get Arya back into his waiting hold. She was a trump in his hand at the game that would serve to secure his precarious stand. If he were to wed a Stark then rightful claim of Winterfell would be his to own. Yet again regret cloaked Jaqen's shoulders. He KNEW the danger of bringing her back here and yet he'd allowed her to suit her whim. br / br / "A man is not in his best fighting form at the moment, but have no doubt he could best any Ironborn given necessity." He glanced toward the door which she'd earlier indicated. "However, chances increase within stealth's shadowed grasp."

Then we go the hidden way." she reached out and pressed on a stone and a door opened slowly, giving way to more darkness. Stairs led to the side and down for a few flights before the path got smaller, they would have to walk for a few feet, backs pressed literally to the wall. She turned back to him after the door opened and noticed, for the first time, how he stood, how pale he looked as he grabbed her shoulder as if to steady himself. Worry flooded her eyes as she took his hand in hers, helping him to steady himself. "Your hurt..." her words whispered softly, carried the worry and the guilt she felt. It was her fault he was hurt thusly, for it had been herself who had made him come, made him take her here that led to this moment. She was flooded with shame at bringing him pain, and anger at those who had done so.

Taking his hand more firmly into her own, she gave it a light squeeze before her eyes again hardened. She would get them out, somehow, lead him as far as she knew and hoped it led past the gates. "Hold tight Jaqen, I will be your eyes in the darkness. This girl might be a wolf when free, but she is also the mouse, skittering silently across the floor, unseen, unheard, by the cat." Turning back to the door, she breathed deep, whispered another "Not Today..." faintly, repeating it over and over in her mind, did she lead them into the near pitch blackness that was the inside of the castles walls. Bare glimpses of light pierced through, here and there, but she knew these passages, and led them true as she could, unseen, unheard, or so she hoped. Their breathing their only company, she kept close watch upon Jaqen, for she knew he was more hurt then he let on and again her very being was filled with hell fire! She would return one day, and make all of them pay!

'Not today' The words of a Braavosi water dancer. He knew them well. A smile lit the darkness of his effort as he interlaced their fingers and allowed her the lead. It was a rare indulgence, but he had to submit to reality's stronghold if only this one time. The narrow, winding passageways were unfamiliar though undaunting. Still he had to admit to his disadvantage. Pain wasn't the hampering factor as he was well trained to ignore its inhabitance, but he'd lost enough blood to bring him to weakness. And so he followed in silent accord, his footfalls certain despite the occasional waves of dizziness that threatened to capsize him./

She was no fool, she could tell how hard it was for him as she led him deeper into the heart of the castle. His breathing changed as she pulled up, having reached the other side after a few moments of uncertainty and slow going. She looked back at him, to see how he was for she knew he was fading, felt it in his grasp, heard it in the slight shuffling of his steps. Worry tinged her face for a moment as she turned back to the door and slowly opened it. Peeking through, blinking a bit at the light that flooded the darkness around them. "good, just as I thought. Main Hall..."She presses her back to the wall to allow him to see past as she points through the hall to the open door and beyond it, the gates. "It's empty, I don't like it." She looks back at Jaqen and decides they can't wait. She would drag or carry him out if she had to but she wouldn't leave him behind if he collapsed. "Think we can make it?" her own breathing had picked up, as had her heartbeat. Her eyes darting about, looking for the slightest movement around them, her ears again straining for the slightest out of place sound. "The forest is just beyond the Gate, and an Ironborn is no match for a wolf in her own path. we can easily lose them, if we can just get to the forest beyond the gate." she turned to him for his opinion, for he had more experience in this sort of thing then she. "What does a Man say? Can He and a girl make it through the gates?"/

He met her gaze with mild disdain. "A man is fine," he lied as he flattened himself to the wall beside her. His breathing was ragged and sweat ran in small rivulets down his temples. He had to believe they would make it regardless of the fact that the odds were against them. To believe anything otherwise would be their defeat. Ahead loomed the Great Hall. Devoid of occupancy, tapestried panels woven with hunting scenes covered the walls. Ornate iron stands held flickering candles. There were bear skin laid out on the tiled floor. A long narrow table flanked by wooden benches took up the Hall's center. At the far end beyond it, were widely flung doors. Concentrating on the task that lay ahead of them - the management of passing undetected from their present position to the outer baily - distracted him from his troubled thoughts. If they were to encounter guarded opposition he would have to fight with his hands since he'd been disarmed when tossed in the cell. He drew a deep breath and squared back his shoulders. "A man says he and a girl are on their own. May the Red God be with us." He gave her hand a tight squeeze before letting it go, then did something he could not explain nor gave a care to. He lowered his head and sought out her lips, brushing his own to their fullness before nodding toward the Hall and stepping out of the darkness into the room.

All her senses straining to the surroundings around them, she looked back and took in his countenance. the sweat that rained down his skin, and the raggedness of his breathing told her of his lie, but she said nothing. The Great Hall looked devoid of life, but it could be a trick as well. Theon knew well that she knew these halls better then he did, and he had only to wait once he discovered her missing for her to come to him! She could ill afford such a thought now, and pushed it out of her mind, for the doors were wide opened and freedom beckoned. She nodded at his words and as he let go of her hand, she looked up at him to smile softly, only to be taken by complete surprise when he kissed her! Had she time to focus on the moment, her heart would have raced away with her, her body would have flushed with warmth, but she squashed it as it raced through her. Escape first, plenty of time for that once they were safely away. /p  
>p class="MsoNormal"She stepped out behind him, dagger drawn just in case she should need it, gracefully flitting across the room, making no sound as she went. For she was the mouse, and her steps were silence. They reached the doors and relief began to flood her as they paused to look out of the Main Hall and into the courtyard. It was strangely empty and some emotion she had no name for slide up and down her spine as she cast her eyes about. A donkey chewed upon the grass as it waited in its flour pit, the smithy was in full force but the occupants busy and hardly paying attention. For now, it seemed, the Red God was with them. After checking one last time, the Open gates and the forest beyond became to much of a calling to her, that she grasped Jaqens hand roughly in her own, and tugged him none to gently forward, dropping his hand as she began to run! Freedom beckoned, but loyalty slowed her step to match her pace with his own. They reached the forest without so much as a hail after them and she took them deeper into its hold, through a moving river and into a thicket before they  br /"Your hurt..." she said again, after catching her breath. "Let me see..." she took two steps towards him, reaching out her hands to the ties and straps of his armor. She knew his shoulder was more wounded then he let on, and her Ama, had taught her a little of healing. She did not think what her actions would seem to him as she reached to remove the armor that hid his wound.

He was back in his element now, having no need of assistance to further their progress ... or should be having none ... The forest unexpectedly changed its character. Birds that passed croaking overhead seemed to be calling a name he could not catch. Trees looked as though they were human figures frozen in the midst of some contorted movement. Somewhere up ahead there was a rustling and the sharp crack of a fallen branch giving way beneath the heavy snow. For a few tense seconds he crouched in preparation to feint off an attack, relieved to discover that none was forthcoming. He suddenly lost all sense of direction, his weight increasing toward impossible carriage.

"You're hurt." He raised his head toward the voice, seeing her through a haze of confusion. A hand reaching out to unfasten his armour met with a swipe of his own in refusal. "A man is fine as he told a girl before.

her eyes met his own, seeing the confusion in his eyes as hers bore into him. Her hands, paused their movement at his swipe but a small smirk lit her lips faintly before it fled and she hid her emotions again. "Jaqen, you are not fine. Look at you, you can barely stand." her voice both soft yet stern as if disciplining a wayward child. "I'm not going to look at you, just remove the Braces so that I can see your shoulder. Hold still..." She lowers her voice at the last as it went soft, her eyes never leaving his "and let me help you..." again, she reached up towards his armor, having to smirk at his attempt to stop her. She would have her way, or she would wait till he fainted and then help him nonetheless, she just hoped he would do as she bid without further complaint./

Glowering, he shook his head in attempt to clear it while with the same motion continuing in his persistent refusal. Instant regret became his possessor as the woods spun around him in dizzying circles. "Hold still for what?" He forced the words through teeth gritted swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat. Again he lifted his hand and pushed hers away. "A man could stand just fine if he had half a mind to. A girl should sit as well and stop pressing concern where none is warranted." He shifted, pulling just out of her reach.

she had had enough of this bravado when it was clear, to her, that he was not just hurt, but in trouble! Reaching out a hand, made rough in her anger did she grasp one of his own in hers and squeezed a little to hard as she turned him to face her. She saw the blood that soaked the cloth around the armor and that gave her new strength as it was now her turn to take his chin into her fingers, glaring hard at him, letting her see both her anger and her worry. "Jaqen, you sit still this instant and let me see to your shoulder! You are bleeding, more so then you should and don't try to tell this girl that you aren't!" her eyes flashed as she held his confused gaze, letting go of his chin, did she again reach for the straps that held his shoulder armor in place, he could fight all he wanted, she would not be stopped nor hindered in this endeavor. In the end, her persistence won out and she managed to undo the main strap to the braces and gently as she could, removed the arm and shoulder armor. She felt instantly sick to her stomach the second she laid eyes to his wound and her emotions got the better of her as they showed upon her face. "You ARE hurt...badly!" her words filled more with shame then anger. "Don't move, you will just lose more blood." she got up and broke off a small birch twig with her dagger and shaped it, as best she could into a needle of sorts, she then cut a small piece of fabric from her own shirt, one for a bandage, the other she pulled small threads from and drew them from the needle she had crafted earlier before returning to his side. Saying a prayer to the Red God and casting up thanks to her Nana and Brother both for teaching her the ways of the healer, or as best as the could teach her, she took his arm back into her hand and cast her eyes up to his. "This will hurt...but it must be done, the girl asks permission before she does so." She bites her lip, looking into his cerulean eyes "A girl must do this, or a Man will die..."

"A girl tries a man's patience," he sighed in resignation. The loosened bracer fell to the snow, the blood soaked under surface quickly turning its color from white to dark red. She was right, of course. The wound needed tending. His strength had been waning since it was received. He knew he was on the brink of awareness and still he struggled through pretense of strength. Arya." Her name was a whisper as it left his lips. "A man asks for dignity. He ... Alright. Permission is granted. But speak of it to no one." It was the closest he'd ever come to death's door, the first time inattention to combat had owned him. By the old gods and the new and his own, he would be damned that would happen again.

" I would never tell Jaqen, not ever." She says softly as she got a better grip upon his arm, and settling beside him to get a better view. She inhaled softly and tried to imagine his flesh the cloth with which she had spent long, laborious hours over, stitching and making pretty designs she detested. Ignored the blood that rained down and across her fingers as she stitched the wound, tied a knot and began again. She was as gentle as she could be, given the circumstances, having never had to sew someone up before, but she knew how it was done. Once the last knot was tied, did she look at her handiwork and decided it would hold, if he as not to rough on himself for the next few days. getting up, she walked to the stream and washed her hands of his blood, watching as it melted into the streams clean water. Reaching out to grab a handful of grass did she weave a cup out of it and filled it with water and returned to his side once again. She cleaned the wound as best she could before wrapping it with the hem of her shirt that she had cut before, tucking the ends in upon itself so it wouldn't come out. Emptying the cup, she returned to the steam again and filled the cup yet again. Walking back to his side, she knelt beside him and propped his head up gently with her hand, in case he needed help, and offered him water. "Drink...you need it." all the time, her senses on alert for the slightest sound or smell around them, she wouldn't relax until they were well away from this place.

She settled down beside him, looking at him, wondering about his actions back at the castle, about the kiss he bestowed upon her, but was unsure how to go about asking him about it. Instead, she slipped her hand into his, entwining their fingers and leaned up to kiss him softly upon the cheek before settling back down beside him. "Rest...a girl will keep watch for now..." she had picked her spot well, Theon would have a hard time trying to find them here, hidden in the shadowed forests hold.


	4. Travel and a horrible realization

Jaqen slept little that night, his thoughts too turbulent to submit to slumber. It was imprecise trepidation with regard to what would happen if the Ironborn were to come pouring through the forest in a heavily armed garrison. There would be nothing he could do save stand ... and die ... hoping his efforts would give Arya enough leeway to make it to safety. He would have to rely upon instinct and cunning to get them to Essos. The invisible sun climbed higher, the snowfall growing heavier over the knotted leafless limbs. He placed a hand on her arm and leaned close, keeping his voice undetectable. "We must be on our way before this storm makes our progress impossible.

She had not slept that night either, keeping watch with a keen eye and fine tuned hearing thanks to her time on the streets after her father was arrested as a traitor. She shivered in the cold but tried not to let it show, her coat propped up behind Jaqens shoulder so he could be comfortable, or at least more so sitting against a tree in a thicket. Her eyes averted upward when a chilled wind blew through the brambles and brackets, shaking the limbs, causing snow to fall upon her lightly. Snow! She just hoped they made it where they were headed to before they both froze. Eyes furrowing slightly, did she nod her head at his insistent whisper. He was right, they had to be on their way and she knew better then to ask him if he was alright, for she knew he would rather die then admit to weakness. Stubborn, more so then herself, though she knew what to look for now should he need help again, but she had a feeling he would refuse it even if she was right. Still, she knew that his shoulder had to be taken easy on and would see to it that he did so, whether he liked it or not. Sheathing her dagger at her side, did she take up her coat after he had stood and put it about her shoulders, but even that gave no comfort save the warmth from his body heat from resting upon it, which she cherished till it faded away. She looked at him, as if asking him to where they would go now, for if he gave her a direction, she could lead them, as best she could, through the thickets of the deep forests hold, unseen and the thickets and glades would keep the snow at bay. It would give them a chance./

"Which way do we go? Give a Girl a place, or direction. She knows these woods better then any Ironborn and will lead as straight as she can, if allowed." surprised by how calm her words sounded even to her own ears. As if talking about going upon a stroll and not fleeing from Westeros as they were. She was calm, collected, set with purpose and to realize that as well, when she should have been panicking, took her by surprise while she contemplated all the things she had been through, while she waited for his answer.

Meanwhile, back at Winterfell, Theon was sitting in the great hall, feasting and celebrating Aryas capture. For surely now, no one would dare mock his claim now that he had a Stark to wed. He was interrupted by a guard, racing into the great hall and asking to speak with him. He looked at the guard that has dared approach him while he dines and yet he listens to him as he tells him of Arya Stark and her escape. He digs his knife into the guard, and throws his still beating heart to the dogs to eat. The command to start the hunt is swiftly responded to and the corpse left to rot with the other one in the cell. A present for Arya the next time she was caught and returned there. He sent the hunts out with the promise of a reward for the ones that brought her back alive and a large fire to put her helper into when they were also found. The first village they had passed through were not willing to help with thier questions until they hung some of their men and a few children to show that answers were required. They hadn't minded the men being killed but seemed to want to spare the child. It's beheadment was a warning and ignoring the wails, they began to follow the road that lead off toward the next village.

White Harbor. The port realm was now their next destination. Having run northward in hastened flight, they had need to return from whence they had come. The prospect was not one of pleasing circumstance for doing so would place them in proximal tenure of Greyjoy's pursuit. First south and then east. There stood no other option. Advantage lay in the unanticipated for such a turnabout would be last considered by those who'd been sent to seek them out. "South." He offered no further word, but turned and began the perilous trek. They passed in and out of bands of mist, feeling its freezing damp talons clawing their faces. The ancient trees were dark in their menacing silence, the ground frozen and treacherous beneath their traverse. A faint crack in the distance caught Jaqen's attention. It was a sharp-edged sound as if some rotten bough had been harshly snapped. In its wake came an unseemly rustling. He motioned to Arya, indicating that she should stay close, then began to move toward the resonant tumult. One more step and there was something at the limit of his sight ...

She kept close to his side, listening and looking about constantly. Trying to move as he moved, walk as he walked. Learning as she went with him, and at times leading him through the bramble and brush. It was blistering cold and getting still colder. She never remembered it being this cold before, as she huddled in her coat to keep warm but trying to appear that she was fine. She did not like the idea of turning back, but knew they had no choice in the matter so she followed Jaqen, fading in and out of the dark forests hold like wraiths through a mist. She just prayed their luck would hold out. Tensing the second he did, hearing the sound of the branch snapping, did she freeze like a mouse being hunted by a cat, all her senses went into overdrive. She stayed close to Jaqens side as they made their way to investigate the sounds, nearly bumping into him when he stopped suddenly. She looked up at him, but he seemed focused on what was ahead of them, so she slowly peeked out from behind him and instantly wished she hadn't. Bodies littered the trees. Men, a few women, even two children...all from the village they were silently passing by. She felt her anger flare up and knew instantly who was responsible for this. The Greyjoy would pay, and would pay dearly! She turned to avert her eyes from the sight of carnage, when a body, swinging lightly in the wind like a windchime caught her attention. Forgetting herself entirely, she started to walk out of the woods towards it. Stopping just short of giving them both away, did she look up at the body from the safety of the treeline and felt part of her soul break. her childhood friend swayed lightly from his rope, stirring her to intense sadness and great pain. She could do nothing for a moment but stare, until sound of snow dropping to the ground caught her attention and pulled her back into herself, where she promtly squashed any and all feelings and emotions. Turning to look back at Jaqen, her face expressionless, did she glance back to the half burned village before going back to stand at his side and in a soft voice did she speak, though trying to hide the pain that still lingered.

"A Man could find weapons here. This village was once known for its Smithy." She casts her eyes up to meet his own. "A Girl could find food for them, what they have not taken, destroyed or eaten. A Girl is sure these people will not mind. The Gods take what is theirs and their troubles are over. A Girl and a Man will not get far without food nor steel. A Girl says it will not hurt to look over the ruins and take what they can find. Respect can be paid later.." She looks away, trying to look anywhere but the bodies hanging upon the trees nor the smoke that still rises from the castle.

The villager had willingly offered his prized hunting dogs for the chase of hunting for Arya. The idea of seeing his son burnt alive had been something of a motivation or sounds of the child screaming as his feet were roasted over a hot fire for starts . Either way the dogs had quickly picked up the smell of her from the clothing item she had left behind and were swiftly moving toward their prey. We stopped to relieve ourselves and at that time a conversation began. Guards that were with me on the hunt began to say that it was not likely that the girl would have passed this way as it would have brought her too close to the house again and their ide was that she would have made for the north harbour. It was small and only used by fishing vessels but she could have gone that way. The man with the dogs insisted that the dogs were tracking properly and that they were close to their target as they were restless and wanted to carry on. A guard exclaimed,"Them's hunting dogs! They could have been tracking deer for all we know and we are close to the animals that they have been tracking!"

Theon found himself considering what Arya may have done and decided to split the party. 5 would go with the dogs and dog owner and 10 with him to check the north fishing harbour. He made sure the guard realized that hanging in a cage waiting to die while the birds ate his flesh that had been burnt to make it more tasty for them would be his fate if he was taking us the wrong way! He watched the dogs start to move swiftly and silently away. He had the feeling he would be watching a guard screaming as hot metal seared his private flesh and his skin was seared from his body.

The village was not as Jaqen had remembered it when they'd passed it on their escape. Most of the farm buildings on the outskirts were intact, although they had an abandoned air and a feel of incipient decay. There were no people to be seen, no smoke rising from the chimneys. It was a hollow landscape. As they entered into the village itself the scent of wet burned wood filled his nostrils. Gutted skeletons were all that remained of the many houses. A charred, black-crusted arm reached out toward the road from across a threshold. A single white sheet, stained by smoke, hung soddenly from an open window. A buzzard sat upon the remnants of roof timber watching them go by with its head cocked to one side. They wove their way through the streets drawing ever closer to the square. The buildings that had once lined the southern side of the market were gone, reduced to piles of blackened debris. One of the fires must have been started there. A lone banner hung limply from a charred fence post - a golden kraken boldly emblazoned upon a black background. "Greyjoy." The name crossed Jaqen's lips with instant disdain.

"A man has enough steel and food can be found as we travel. Theon has made it clear that he gives no care for life beyond a girl's. See what he has done with reckless abandon? These deaths are as much our fault as his. Innocents burned and for what? Our freedom?" If he'd meant to lay guilt he had done so quite well. "He makes of us murderers in all of this killing. A man would prefer fighting to being such cause." He crouched down before her, hands on her shoulders. "What says a girl? Do we keep running or face him together?"

walking among the now dead city, Arya looked about and was almost overcome with intense sadness. She felt a deep, black rage overcome her before she could control it. This was not the village she remembered from her youth! The paths she traversed on were now muddied and puddles of blood and ash littered the area. The houses no longer stood proudly, flying their many flags and banners, but were nothing more then charred wood and billowing smoke. She didn't know which was worse, seeing her friends and relations hanging in the forest or the sad remnants of the most favored village in the North? Seeing the Greyjoy flag hanging from a charred fence post, she went cold inside. Everything screamed at her for revenge, to make the man and his men who did this pay. She knew he would not stop until he got ahold of her. He would keep killing and ransacking villages to achieve his goal. Wed a Starrk and claim Winterfell as his own. She would die before that happened...she turned her eyes to Jaqens, letting him see the fire within them, the hate and pain that she hid so well now and placed her hands upon his own. In a steely voice of barely contained rage did she whisper. "Together..."

The hounds with the few guards still with them began to quicken their pace as they came back toward the village. One guard cursed and said that the escapers must have gone North like was suggested as the stupid dogs were going home rather than hunt! The dogs speed began to increase and soon the began to run into the edge of the village. The dogs slowed and looked round but then continued racing after their prey and the scent was fresh now and spurred them on faster. The guards were hard pushed to keep up.

Greyjoy was not pleased to have ridden north for nothing and the guard that had suggested the trip north was being dragged naked behind his horse and slowly dying from the battering and injuries. He spurred the horse on faster and faster in a hurry to catch up with the escaped girl before she could get help or elude him further. He cut the naked battered corpse free so that he could go faster and the following horses trampled the body as they raced after Greyjoy. Time had been wasted. The horses raced ahead and let the foot guards run after them to catch up as and when they could. The village where the dogs had come from wasn't too far ahead and Greyjoy hoped the guards had captured the girl. They would die otherwise!

The sound of surrounding hounds captured his attention away from her whisper. He reached over his shoulder and unsheathed his sword. A blade now in hand, rage ruled his composure. Westeros would not lay the blame of dead innocents upon Arya. Nor would they label her craven for running. The Lannisters would love nothing more than that pleasure. However, neither would he let her be taken to wife by the kraken! If any would have her, it would be he. The wind moaned without pause over and through the skeletal city. The two said nothing to each other as they stood steadfastly waiting.

She heard the baying of the dogs upon the wind and feels the fire within her flame to nearly out of control! She had to get a hold of herself, quiet her emotions. Not having a clear head was a bad way to be when facing down many odds. She turned, looking towards the forest, hearing the ever closer baying of the hounds and found herself not afraid. True, her heart was racing, so loudly she was sure Jaqen could hear it, but outside, she appeared calm. Pulling her dagger from its sheath did she stand by his side, waiting for whatever was to come. Winterfell had been taken, her family dead, she would be dead before she married an Ironborn! No one controlled her fate, or so she let herself believe. Casting only a glance up at Jaqen, before turning her attention back to the woods, waiting.


End file.
